Once she was on the pavement, Laura paused and took a deep breath of the spring air. The sky above the New England Conservatory Building was blue. It was proving to be a good day. Laura had known she had a good chance of being in “Tales of the Wind”, the orchestra’s premium performance. But with auditions being compulsory nothing was guaranteed. She touched the paper in her pocket lightly; it was the performance pass that gave her the guarantee she needed. The slot was hers.
Her red Volkswagen bug was waiting for her in the parking lot. No matter what anybody said she loved the car. The car was a present from her Aunt Matilda; Laura thought it was cool for a cello player to drive a bug. Throwing her bag in the back seat she took to the driver's seat. The car's interior was nothing fancy,
